Wishes
by Wavecrest
Summary: The music box granted wishes, but was the one wish Sparrow saw made with it ever granted? Well... maybe he just helped it a little...


Rumors of his many names and deeds could be heard all throughout Albion. It was always amusing to him, the many names, because he thought of himself by the simple name, the one that many had forgotten or never known: Sparrow.

That was the name his Rose had given him, and the man had never really let it go.

Not that many people or beings would think of this man by such a name; he was tall and lean, his entire form crisscrossed with bright blue Will lines. He had dark hair and wore an assassin's outfit. Needless to say, Sparrow wasn't exactly a nice man, despite his fame and fortune from his real estate investments (many called him "The Ruler of Albion"), and many people shied away from him.

Not all people did, though—he had seen Lady Grey and Victor recently, and the young man had been very glad to see Sparrow once more. This was the hero that had unselfishly brought Victor and his love together, that had helped Victor more than anyone else ever had, his best and only friend and he would always be in Sparrow's debt. The thought of the rather… unique love always brought a small smile to the hero's face. The two were usually traveling, but they always welcomed Sparrow when they saw him.

Giles and his son got along with Sparrow as well, though seeing the Enforcer in Sparrow's holster had made the former guard shake his head sadly. _'The past should remain there… but if anyone else knows what it feels like to have the burden of death and life, it's you.'_ It had made Sparrow feel a bit better, knowing that though Giles had been a bit against his actions, he still accepted Sparrow. And seeing Rupert happy with the partner that Sparrow had picked made the hero smile. He was always welcome in their home in Bowerstone, no matter what his reputation to the outside world.

Barnum had been similar to the others, always glad to see Sparrow despite any reputation… The hero shut his eyes, thinking of the man who had always amused him with his interesting "vocabularium." The man and his unique approaches to life had always amused Sparrow—he had easily given the entrepreneur 5000 gold, not expecting to have it returned (having it plus interest had been a very pleasant surprise). Barnum had been one of the few people Sparrow had learned to care for… and of course he had been taken away. Sparrow had wanted to kill Reaver after Lucien's death, but he had gone to another land before the younger hero could avenge Barnum. Laughter, vocabulary, a different outlook, and something irreplaceable—these were things Barnum had given Sparrow.

What was the irreplaceable object? Sparrow glanced at it now—an image of himself grinning broadly and giving a thumbs-up, standing next to Rose who was posing and grinning just as widely as him. He kept it in his sister's old diary that he had dug up.

Dead. The older man was dead, his sister was dead, and even his _dog_… all of them were gone. But he had avenged his small family—his sister and dog—killing Lucien himself. It was honestly the only killing that he _felt_, that he _enjoyed._ Perhaps that fact would have surprised people, seeing the various jobs he had completed, but nobody asked, of course. And, well, those that knew him understood that he still felt pain… that he still felt loss.

It would have been good, so good, to have brought back those he cherished and loved… but he would have left _thousands_ suffering, just like he had. And Sparrow _knew_ that pain, knew it firsthand, and as "bad" as people thought he was he wouldn't condemn anyone else to his life. He had chosen to sacrifice his happiness for the benefit of others, something he knew many wouldn't have believed of him.

He repressed the urge to scare the whispering villagers away as he strode through Fairfax Gardens. He had more important matters to deal with than them. He could see the huge towering structure that was Fairfax Castle in front of him, and he stopped in front of the door. He glanced at his bag and smiled, a rare, true smile, and breathed in deeply, watching as the gold vanished from his bag and the paper in front of him began to change.

'_I wished that we could live in a castle… like this one.'_

"It's ours, Rose," Sparrow whispered softly, looking at the image he clutched in his hand. "The music box took decades, but it finally worked. We made it."


End file.
